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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26298451">Hypnos</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminiatureworld/pseuds/aminiatureworld'>aminiatureworld</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I still think it's cute so please do read it, M/M, anyways I finally had them kiss, but the downside is I'm terrible at writing kissing so whoops, more sweetness and fluff, sorry for the odd title couldn't think of anything</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:07:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26298451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminiatureworld/pseuds/aminiatureworld</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier realizes how unbearable sleeping next to one's unrequited love can be. Luckily that setup doesn't last forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hypnos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What was supposed to be a short fic went into the wee hours of the night, and since I wrote another fic (putting today's word count since midnight at above 3k) this isn't actually all that proofread, apologies in advance.</p>
<p>Hope you enjoy and thank you to all 81 people who left kudos on my last Geraskier fic, as well as the 638 people who read it, the 3 people who bookmarked it, and the one who commented. You're all golden people in my eyes!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            Jaskier was beginning to wish that he’d just agreed to sleep on the floor. It was high summer and a bit of a dry season for Geralt. Jaskier had joked once that perhaps the heatwave was too much for the monsters, that they were probably all off on vacation in the north, and honestly he was beginning to believe his own joke more and more, for not only was the coin scarce, but half of the time the bard wondered if his boots weren’t one day going to simply meld to his feet, and he’d never be able to take them off again. The humidity didn’t help his singing much either. Not only was his voice not appreciating the sudden spikes in temperature, dreadfully hot in the beginning of the night and cool enough in the morning to cause complaining in his throat, but his lute was also suffering, as the wood kept swelling and throwing off the pitch, the pegs constantly sticking and refusing to turn. This <em>certainly</em> didn’t help in terms of funding, so when Geralt had suggested they’d share a bed to stave off sleeping under the stars, this town didn’t seem to have a nice patch of grass within ten miles of it, Jaskier had readily accepted, as the floor was terribly splintered and had a suspicious stickiness about it that kept them both with their shoes on.</p>
<p>            Now however he wondered if it wasn’t worth getting a mysterious illness for a little bit of sleep, for sleeping next to Geralt seemed in the moment like the most difficult task Jaskier had yet to attempt while following the Witcher around, for although it was indeed frustratingly hot, although the bed was indeed small and cramped, and although the open window indeed let in more stench than breeze, none of that was comparable to the anxious feeling that was bubbling up in Jaskier’s stomach, or the tautness of his senses, as he now seemed to be aware of every little movement that came from the sleeping man next to him.</p>
<p>            He kept his back to the Witcher, hoping that would ease the anxious feeling in his chest, the sweat running down his chest, half due to the heat, to nerves. Whether it was indeed better than facing Geralt, Jaskier couldn’t tell, as it seemed every little movement he made caused such an obnoxious creaking that flipping over was quite out of the question. His every nerve seemed to be begging for sleep, his eyelids kept sliding closed, yet quickly he’d open them again, for his mind kept racing with all sorts of scenarios where he accidentally kicked Geralt, or got too close or, gods forbid, found himself tangled with the Witcher. Not that he didn’t want that of course, indeed Jaskier sometimes felt he wanted that too much, for being around Geralt had the sometimes unfortunate side effect of cause such a tightness and fluttering in his chest, as well as, well, other things. Still it was a lot easier to temper that with occasional flirting, which Geralt never seemed to pick up on; references in songs, also unnoticed; and a bit of secret staring, Jaskier was glad <em>that</em> hadn’t been found out yet; than to deal with the very immediate consequences of being stuck in bed next to the man that Jaskier wouldn’t hesitate to throw his heart at, if he thought Geralt wouldn’t catch it and toss it out the window. Straining his eyes to stare at the window, Jaskier wondered what decisions he made to get here and, accepting sleep was going to be in short supply that night, prayed to whatever god was listening that he’d never have to deal with this situation again.</p>
<p>            Unfortunately whatever god was listening must’ve had a tight schedule for it was barely a week and a half before the situation happened again. Geralt had apparently felt nothing from their previous bed sharing, so when they’d landed in a particularly crowded inn he’d simply looked at Jaskier and said “I guess we’re sharing again tonight.” Jaskier had simply nodded dumbly, hit with such a wave of panic that he’d not managed to think of any sort of good excuse, and now here they were again, and here again was Jaskier wondering where it’d all gone wrong. It was a cooler night at least, though cooler was hardly the same as comfortable this year, and his nightshirt still stuck to his back, drenched in sweat. Somehow the bed seemed even tighter than the last one, and though Jaskier had managed last time not to run into his companion, he wasn’t quite so sure about this time around. Half of him wondered if the night wasn’t simply better spent in front of the window writing music by moonlight, but they were simply passing by this village, and tomorrow was going to be spent on the road, so sleep was a desperate need. Scooting slightly more into the bed, at least it seemed to be less creaky than its predecessor, Jaskier felt his back touch the Witcher. So that was how much space he had. Silently cursing the inn for only having two pillows per bed, Jaskier’s standard was usually closer to five, Jaskier lay shifted so his left arm wasn’t completely pinned underneath him and, praying that this would be another uneventful night, drifted off into a fitful sleep.</p>
<p>            Jaskier woke up in darkness. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was, having been in the middle of an incredibly odd dream featuring a bunch of random schoolmates and a series of differently colored doors, also was there a war going on? Shivering slightly, it was awfully cold, Jaskier groped around for some sort of blanket. Unfortunately those seemed in short supply, and, quickly growing too tired to continue the search, Jaskier simply saddled up to the source of heat next to him and, vaguely thinking this was quite the odd pillow and had he simply not woken up, drifted off back to sleep.</p>
<p>            The room that the two men had rented faced the dawn, and thus the sky was still slightly purple when Jaskier woke up. Blinking heavily a few times, the first thing that hit Jaskier was the freshness of the air, the second thing that his him was the pair of arms around him. A more efficient alarm there never was, and as Jaskier was aware of that he also became exceedingly aware of the fact that, during the night, his sleep ridden mind had apparently decided that wrapping ones arms around and nuzzling ones face into the chest of one’s unrequited love was a perfectly reasonable and sane thing to do. Now however Jaskier was discovering, indeed, that <em>wasn’t</em> the sanest or most reasonable thing to do. He wondered how he might get himself out of this situation without waking the Witcher when he heard a sleep filled “Jaskier” come from the lips of the man who he’d wrapped his arms around. Looking up at the sleepy Witcher, the sleepy Witcher who’d evidently not processed the situation, Jaskier felt the familiar burning in his heart and in his chest, the bittersweet warmth of falling in love, for at this point it most certainly wasn’t simple infatuation, with someone who’d never return the feeling. For a moment he felt a pang of jealousy, jealousy towards anyone who’d the Witcher had let into his heart, for sometimes Jaskier couldn’t be sure what his place was in that sense, whether he lay outside the walls of Geralt’s defense or not, but that quickly faded, replaced by the familiar tenderness the bard felt. Geralt was too good for that kind of jealousy anyhow.</p>
<p>            Moments passed and Jaskier waited for Geralt to do something, to grow embarrassed or some such thing. But though his face turned an interesting glow of red, Geralt had yet to react, and for a moment time seemed to freeze, neither party making any move to break the odd spell, the situation they’d landed themselves in. Finally Jaskier made a half hearted move to go, but though Geralt slackened his arms around the bard’s neck he made no move to untangle himself. Finding the entire situation more and more unbearable by the moment, Jaskier felt the tension rising by the second. Finally a sort of desperation came over him and, seeming to realize at the moment how terrible an idea this was, Jaskier lifted his head and gave Geralt a quick kiss on the cheek.</p>
<p>            If nothing else <em>that</em> certainly did the trick. Geralt’s face grew red as an overripe tomato, and he quickly lurched up to a sitting position. Jaskier did too and, realizing that he’d probably just thrown their whole relationship down the drain, began a string of apologies. “Geralt, I’m so sorry. You don’t… I don’t… we don’t have to go down a path even intersectional with that. I just, I suppose it was just that you’d made no gesture to move, and, well, I’ve kinda been wanting to kiss you for ages and ages now, but I really value your friendship more than anything like that, so we can just pretend that it didn’t happen if you want and I’m so very sorry!”</p>
<p>            Geralt up to this point had made neither to move nor to speak, only sort of staring at Jaskier in what the bard supposed was a shocked sort of expression, really Geralt had such a hand on the reins of his facial expressions it was hard to tell, but seeing that the bard was at least pausing for breath he leaned closer. Immediately all thoughts were dashed from Jaskier’s brain. He felt a sort of disbelief that the Witcher hadn’t simply left yet, a disbelief that grew intensely when instead Geralt made to cup Jaskier’s cheek with his hand. Leaning slightly into the touch Jaskier still shook his head slightly. “I, I don’t understand.”</p>
<p>            “May… may I show you?” Geralt gazed down at Jaskier, moving closer so their faces were inches apart. His mind working overtime, the situation finally clicked in Jaskier’s mind, and at that moment he felt such a lightness and joy that it seemed to completely black out the rest of the world.</p>
<p>            “Yes please.” He breathed out before Geralt brought his lips to Jaskier’s and all else was immediately forgotten.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>            It had taken a much longer time for the two to get on the road than expected, though Jaskier, feeling delightfully spent, didn’t mind the disruption, and thus by the time night fell it was abundantly clear that they’d be camping, for the next town was still some miles away. As Jaskier began rolling out the beds he placed the two right next to one another, smiling devilishly at Geralt, who beamed fondly back. Jaskier’s smile also softened into an affectionate one, and he joined his companion who was currently focusing on building their fire. Plopping down next to Geralt, Jaskier began playing a soft theme, the kind that didn’t bring attention to itself while still being beautiful enough to be worthwhile.</p>
<p>            “Sooo.” He spoke up. “Might I ask now about your affections towards me, I know I’m quite irresistible of course but I’d still like to hear it, and why you’d been so reticent about it?”</p>
<p>            “You said nothing.” Geralt pointed out, but there was no attack in the words, only a sort of fondness. “And, well, people connected to me are always cheated by Fate. Everyone I’ve met who I’ve, well,” he threw his hands up slightly, “they’ve all met bad ends. I didn’t want that again. Not for me, yes, but not for you.” He gazed softly at Jaskier. “You deserve better.”</p>
<p>            “Nonsense,” Jaskier replied softly, “I deserve only you, perhaps not even that, perhaps I’m not even good enough for that. But I’d still have you, if you’d have me.” He paused.</p>
<p>            “I thought I made that quite clear.” Geralt replied softly, and, arms sliding around the bard’s waist, who in turn threw his arms around the Witcher’s neck, made to prove it.</p>
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